


Can't Go On

by TheLegendOfKagePro



Series: Colours Until Death\Fargeblind [2]
Category: Colours Until Death, Fargeblind, Original Work
Genre: Anxiety, Bc those are most likely what it is, Depression, Gen, Gonna go ahead and tag, I meant son, Idk I'm venting onto my sob, Kinda, Mental Illness, Oops, Self-Destruction, Self-Hatred, So yeah, That I don't know the names of bc I Haven't Been Diagnosed, attempted suicide, i guess, i wasn't planning on that but, post will's death, son - Freeform, tw, um
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-10
Updated: 2017-07-10
Packaged: 2018-11-28 11:35:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 719
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11417109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheLegendOfKagePro/pseuds/TheLegendOfKagePro
Summary: Timothy has some bad days after William's gone.





	Can't Go On

**Author's Note:**

> This is on my phone so fuck formatting and length.

As soon as Timothy opened his eyes for the first time that morning, he knew it was going to be a bad day. He felt heavy and despite having just woken up, he didn't have the energy to move. This wasn't the first time he had felt like this but it was the first time it had happened so early. Every other time it had hit him sometime in the day. He wasn't quite sure what was going on during these episodes but he was aware enough so know that Will's death had caused them.

He felt like crying, sobbing until his head hurt and the fabric around him was soaked. He wanted to, desperately. He knew it would help but he just couldn't. He was too numb, broken. He couldn't bring himself to cry and even if he could, he still lacked the energy to do it right. It was like some sort of sick loop of uselessness. Unable to do anything and wanting to cry but unable to do even that. He supposed it was what hell felt like. Helpless and horrid.

Tim let the question wander into his mind, did anyone else ever feel like this? Did William? His memories answered that for him, thinking back to when he saw Will with his fingers wrapped in cheap kiddy bandaids and bloodshot, sleep deprived eyes. He reckoned that was different though. He didn't have the energy to self destruct like that. Maybe it'd be better if he did. Maybe it'd be easier. Maybe it'd be simpler if he just stopped existing, died. Maybe if the Heaven he was told about in church existed, he'd see Will again.

A little voice in the back of his mind told him his logic was flawed. He'd sinned in so many ways. Awful. He was awful, a disgrace. He let William die. It was his fault. If he hadn't called him to the school that night... If he'd been paying more attention Will would still be breathing and existing. Raymond wouldn't have been admitted to the hospital for attempted suicide after his best friend died. Timothy wouldn't feel so damn guilty.

Guilty.

GUILTY

G U I L T Y

It consumed him. It drove him to roll out of bed and grab his phone. His big bulky phone case was comforting for he knew what it held. He changed into something acceptable and walked out of his house, waving with fake cheeriness at his sister when she greeted him. 

"I'll be back for dinner!" he called as walked down the pavement.

It was a humid summer day and he was sweating a bit by the time he got to the headstone that marked William's grave. The wind had blown away the slips of paper Tim had put there just two days before. He'd written what he had wanted to tell him if he'd had time at first but eventually it just became a diary of sorts. He'd write Will and tell him what was going on. He'd tried speaking it before but he had broken down completely and decided it wasn't that same.

Timothy wasn't here to lay down more notes, now. He was here for a different, permanent purpose. He fell to his knees on the soft grass covering the lumpy soil in front of the stone and kissed his dead soulmate's grave.

"I'm so sorry..." His voice cracked on the last word as tears streamed down his face. He clumsily took the case off of his phone, vision blurred by tears. The small metal blade he now held made him cry more. He was sobbing out repeated apologies while he took the edge of the razor to his arms, neck, legs. Anywhere. Any bare skin. Blood trickled onto the grey stone and he fell onto it, covered in deep and shallow cuts, bleeding out slowly. The bland world around him faded, turning into darkness for what he hoped was the last time.

\---

"I love you."

 

\---

"Be better, idiot."

\---

"Live for me, Frost. Live what I wasn't able."

\---

Timothy woke up covered in scars in a pristine white hospital room, his lost soulmate's words echoing in his mind. Tears streaked down his face because he knew he had lost. He had to keep going.

Just for Will.

Just for him.


End file.
